


Lover, Mine

by UnrealRomance



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, MGiT, Modern Girl in Thedas, Not a self insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2019-11-28 21:31:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrealRomance/pseuds/UnrealRomance
Summary: Welp. Here's that Zevmance I promised forever ago. I have always been working on it in my mind, but till now nothing really worked. And the last time I wrote it, it just...didn't seem right.Hopefully this time's the charm.Dive into a Modern Girl x Zevran romance if you like.And like, I didn't think this needed to be said, cause you know, fanfiction-- but apparently there's people who think every fanfic should be gritty, dark and super realistic. This will not be that. So if you don't like fluffy-ness, go read something else instead of starting shit in my comment section, please.(Minors do not interact, please.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do, however, accept constructive criticism.
> 
> Allow me to define this for you.
> 
> I don't want to hear that you, personally, dislike this thing and therefore it's terrible and bad. I want to hear that this thing was hard to understand, or misspelled, or boring because it dragged on so long-- things that can be fixed.
> 
> I do not want people telling me that communism/socialism/anything but capitalism is bad or that SJW's ruin everything. If you're gonna tell me anything of this nature, please kindly leave my story and just don't come back. My political beliefs are non-negotiable and they're usually pretty baldly advertised. Take a hint.
> 
> But on the other hand, if I do something offensive, such as racist tropes, transmisogyny or etc-- feel free to let me know. I am always open for that kind of concrit. Yes, this includes ableism, acephobia/arophobia, or any kind of blunder with Nonbinary depictions as well. I hate that this is necessary to specify but I know not everyone is. Also I'm bi but I still make mistakes in that area, too, I know.

Well, today's been just  _wonderful_.

Let's tally it all up.

First I came home from my incredibly stressful job as a tarot reader at the local fair that opens every weekend- after catching a bunch of hurled insults from people who thought I was running some kind of scam, and people getting mad when the cards said something they didn't like.

Then when I  _got_  home, I discovered that there were rats eating into some of my favorite cereals up in the cupboard and had to throw away the entire bags and then put humane traps on my shopping list.

I know people who keep pet rats and these might not be good for that, but I can't forget my high-school friend with the pet rat who'd give her 'kisses' and make happy squeaking noises, I refuse to kill an innocent animal who's only crime was to be hungry.

And finally, worst of all, my internet and television were both down because it started storming outside not long after I got home.

So not only did I have a terrible day, I also couldn't do anything to distract myself from thinking about how truly terrible it was.

So I thought, this is a perfect time to meditate and get rid of all my negative energy from the day!

And now this.

"Careful girl, you might've had a body before but this one is new." Fucking Flemeth is standing in the corner of the room stirring a huge pot of soup and I'm lying flat on my back, naked, on a bedroll that Morrigan was ordered to fetch for me after I popped into existence just outside their hut.

I've tried several times to sit up but the pain is like setting my nerve endings on fire- and it's like I'm an infant again, I can barely control my limbs!

Speaking is also impossible at this point, as any time I try, all I get out is a weird croaking noise and it  _hurts._

"Mother, what… _is this_?" Morrigan asks. "A spirit or demon of some sort, taken new form?"

"This is something altogether much more interesting, my girl," Flemeth replies. "I believe this person was flesh and bone once. Perhaps was even as she created herself a new vessel. I have not known anyone who could do such a thing besides myself. Curious."

"Yes, quite," Morrigan replies. Eyeing me from the other side of the room. "But if she were flesh and bone, blood and muscle before- why is she having such difficulty now?"

"The rules have changed, dear Morrigan," Flemeth intones. "Her body is not only physical now. She will discover the way to use it once she realizes this."

Okay, putting aside the asinine weirdness going on right now, I can figure out what that means. I was meditating after all- maybe something just went wrong in my mind and now I'm living a nightmare of sorts? Maybe what the Flemeth-hallucination is saying is that I need to reconnect to my soul rather than floundering about in my body here.

Okay, I can do that. Slip back into meditation. I think.

So I focus, breathe deeply and let my whole body go still. Or well, as still as I can make it, seeing as my nerve endings seem to be firing randomly and making my hands and feet jerk at times.

Slowly, I feel a calm fall over my body and even those erratic movements cease. Or I think they cease. I can't perceive them anymore, and that's the important part here.

Everything inside my soul-space is the same as ever, except… in this place in the deepest parts of myself there's now a pool of…something. That's never been there before. It feels…wrong? Not wrong, just…unfamiliar.

It's not supposed to be there but now it is and it's wreaking havoc with the rest of me. The pool itself I perceive as this goopy mass of…myself, that's been added to me and now the rest of me is rejecting it because it doesn't recognize the me that's there.

So…all I have to do is welcome this new part of me that's grown in, or appeared or whatever and that should fix the problem, right?

Only one way to find out, I guess.

Taking deep breaths, I imagine myself drawing the weird pool into my limbs, a little at a time. From that place deep inside myself where the physical and not-physical are the same thing. At least to me.

One breath at a time, the energy or whatever it is, fills up empty spaces in my body. Pooling in places like my heart, stomach and brain. Nearly pickling me with it. There's just so  _much_. But putting it inside the spaces where I was empty just a moment ago, eases my pain and…the stuff starts to  _sink_ in.

Pretty soon, all the stuff is gone and I'm just…whole.

And I sit up with a gasp and a wince immediately because fuck waiting for my body to settle, I want ambulatory control of my limbs back  _now_.

My ability to clench my hands and wiggle my toes convinces me that I'm finally back to normal. But then I look up and I'm not anywhere familiar. I'm still in Flemeth's hut- which is a kind of familiar, but not the kind I'd been anticipating.

"Shit, my brain's still broken," I curse aloud before I can think better of it. But I mean, what are they going to do? They're either hallucinations or real life people I'm hallucinating Flemeth and Morrigan  _on top of_  and either way…I just don't care. "I guess I really did need anti-psychotics," I mutter to myself. "But they never did anything and the side-effects were  _terrible_ …"

"Mother, what is she babbling about?" Morrigan turns to Flemeth and asks.

"You can damn well ask her," I reply sharply. "And maybe take the steps to introduce yourself and explain to me what the hell is going on because I was just in my home not long ago- god how long was that?-and now I'm in a hut in the Korcari with two fictional characters that shouldn't exist. And one of them is acting like I'm beneath her without even knowing anything about me, which admittedly is within your character Morrigan but if you'd kindly refrain until I've stopped freaking out about a literal upheaval of my entire life, it'd be much appreciated."

"Ahh," Flemeth says. Chuckling. "I see now. You are from a world apart from ours. That is why you floundered so with your body at first. You did not know how magic worked in this world. You could not complete yourself until you accepted the new power and let go of the old."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but that's not new." I reply. "This is a hallucination, or something. It can't be a dream because you don't have pain in dreams, but hallucinations can be very real." I'm talking aloud to myself because if I can still hear my own voice, maybe that means I'm not really trapped anywhere and I'm just not seeing what's really there.

Maybe if I just focus on reality, it'll come back.

"Oh you poor thing," Flemeth says. Actually sounding regretful. "Do you not feel that your original tether to your body has snapped? It did so when you first appeared. Shaped into your new form."

"That would make me dead, and I'm damn sure this isn't the afterlife," I reply.

Heaven would probably include comforts and zero aggravation. Knowledge and understanding without confusion. Hell would be way worse.

Purgatory isn't an option here, either. This is too nice and also too terrible for that. Purgatory is like a waiting room. You're not happy but you're not terribly broken up either. Or at least that's what I've heard.

And if I were dead, it stands to reason I'd  _feel_  dead, wouldn't I?

"How do you know what death and the afterlife are like, child?" she asks. "Have you ever been there before that you can recall? Regardless, I did not say you were dead. I said you had changed bodies and your connection to the last one snapped. Completely different issues, I assure you."

"You've come here from another world?" Morrigan asks, nearly breathless. "How can that be?"

"And how the hell are we all speaking the same language, that's what I wanna know," I respond. "I speak English and you speak Common, possibly also a language from the Korcari- I don't know what they are but you probably know them."

"Fair assumption," Flemeth chuckles. "But we are speaking Trade, or Common as you said. You appeared here, with us. The language we most often speak is Common, as I wanted to be sure my daughter was fluent. Regardless of other languages I might've taught her, that is the one that will be most useful."

"At least until she heads to another country and has to speak Orlesian or Antivan," I reply.

"I don't believe this," Morrigan huffs. "Such a wondrous thing has happened and the both of you are-" she cuts herself off and throws up her hands. "If you require me, mother, know that I will be in the wood, searching for herbs."

"I'm the one who should be freaking out here, Morrigan!" I call after her. Then turn to Flemeth. "I can't stay here. The Blight is coming. I really don't wanna see how my brain interprets that and what might happen to me if the hallucination goes on too long or becomes too real."

"Then I suppose your journey to discover the source of your travelling mind must begin," Flemeth replies. "You are a clever girl, I'm sure you will come to the answer in time. All things are possible with magic after all."

"Not since the Veil went up," I insist. "Wait. Do I have to wait until Solas tears down the Veil before I can go home? That's-! Oh god how many years is that?"

"Do not ask me, Child, you are the one with the knowledge, it appears," she says. Her expression is distant now. "I do wonder how my old friend is doing."

"He's as arrogant and pig-headed as I'd imagine he ever was, just more mellow about it most of the time," I reply distractedly as I try to remember the year-gap between Origins and Inquisition. "He's not awake yet, though. That's…that's going to be years away."

"Suppose you should start looking for him, then. After the Blight is over, as you've said," Flemeth advises. "If anyone can help you, I suppose it would be him. He always did love to teach the young and passionate how to use the fullest extent of their power. And you are very powerful indeed."

I give her a look. "What are you talking about?  _I_  didn't bring me here, there was…something else, there had to be."

"I meant your magic, girl," she says. And then inhales sharply. "Ahhh, you have never had any before. That will be entertaining for a short while, I think."

I stare at her for a moment. "I'm not a mage. That's not even remotely possible. I mean. This is a hallucination, but- I wouldn't be a  _mage_. I always choose Rogue classes in these games. The only times I'm a mage are when I want to see what's different. Any dream or hallucination of mine bringing me here would make me a rogue. It would give me a bow to shoot, daggers to wield."

Flemeth shakes her head. "You have the magic within you, I sense it. And no bow nor daggers upon your naked back."

"Ugh, so not only is my brain broken it can't even give me the perfect illusion to hide how broken it is," I cover my face with my hands.

"You are not broken, child. And even if I were an illusion before your eyes, something that wasn't there, my advice would be the same if you knew me. Search yourself for the magic and you will find it." She says.

"I never said I was broken, I said my brain was," I reply. "But fine, I'll give it a shot. As soon as I get some clothes."

She chuckles. "I did wonder when you would ask. You are more comfortable in your skin than most outside the wilds."

"We're all women, there's nothing to hide between us," I shrug. "Even if we didn't have the same body parts, women seeing other women naked is just natural and non-threatening."

"Too right," she slinks over to the chest before the bed and opens it, pulling out some clothing. She tosses it at me and I catch it. Fumbling a little. "You may dress and then join me outside. I will teach you to harness that power you do not yet understand. Unless you'd like to go to a circle to learn instead?"

I give her a look and quirk my brow. "No I think I'll take my chances with the ex-goddess and her very mean daughter."

She leaves, cackling to herself, letting the door close behind her.

Getting up, I walk over to the full-length mirror and put on the clothing- finding all the little fastens and turning round and round in the mirror to check I've gotten them all.

They're pretty simple, patchwork clothes. Nothing fancy, but comfortable enough. Usually just my speed, though I'd prefer my clothes be a uniform color unless the other colors are bright and splashed against like, black or gray or something.

And then I glance up as I fix my hair and I see-

"No fucking way." I whisper and move closer to the mirror, staring into my unnaturally bright golden eyes. "Flemeth!" I run out of the hut with her name on my lips. "What the hell happened to my eyes!"


	2. Chapter 2

Being able to see lightning dance across your fingertips isn't like how you think it'd be.

It's not just mind-blowingly awe inspiring- it's  _personal_. Visceral. It's like taking your guts out and displaying them for the world to see.

My soul, my aura, my  _self_  is within every flicker of electricity. Every crystal of ice, every gout of flame.

So of course I immediately decide to never actually show it on the outside unless in a dire emergency. Morrigan thinks I'm being ridiculous.

"You're being ridiculous!" she exclaims. "It is your magic, it is part of you."

"I know that," I reply. "That's why I'm keeping it where the rest of my innards are. There's gotta be a kind of magic in this world that's…less flashy and doesn't expose your magic to the open air. Can't I body channel? Or just…I dunno, put my magic into a weapon and just not make it obvious I'm doing so?"

"Indeed you can," Flemeth comments from the sidelines. She's been watching us bicker for a few minutes. "The question is, are you ready for the self-discipline, hard work and control training that will be necessary to attain even the lowest level of expertise in this sort of magic?"

"I doubt any other school of magic would be easy," I reply. "Also…I have my own way of channeling energy. I want to see if it works."

She gestures broadly. "By all means. I find myself curious as well."

Morrigan strides over to stand next to her mother. "Indeed, this will be quite diverting if it should work. Another form of magic from another world."

"There is no magic in my world, remember?" I reply. "This is more an exercise that was meant to center the mind and call up pieces of yourself you felt existed. Whether or not they were real or imagined, to make you feel powerful and help you figure out your life."

Settling on the ground in the slowly waning sunlight, I close my eyes and focus on the place inside me I go to call the elements. But this time instead of lighting candles and calling them _to_  me from outside- I have to call them  _up_  from within me.

That's probably gonna be harder.

It's so hard, in fact, that hours later- when the sun sets, I still haven't managed it.

Hours of meditation. Hours of begging the elements within me to rise up and warm me, cool me, steady me and fill me with their power and…nothing.

It's never been this hard for me to do this kind of thing. I always felt the call of the wind, at least. It…had a special connection with me. I felt…I felt like I could even command it sometimes.

"You will try again tomorrow, girl. From dawn till dusk if you must. But for now, it is time for you to sleep." Flemeth ushers me back into the hut about an hour after sundown.

"What is it you were trying to do?" Morrigan asks as I walk in. "What process is there involved in this…strange meditation ritual?"

"Usually a lot more than I was doing, but…I don't have any of my stuff." I say with a grumble, kicking at the floor a little. "My candles, my cards, my crystals…"

"Your spiritual system requires the usage of items, curious," Flemeth hums to herself as she pours broth into bowls. "Such as a mage's use of a staff, but I assume- far more vital."

"We don't necessarily need them, but I…haven't gone without in a very long time. I built myself an altar with many materials that helped to boost my inner power and help me connect to my inner divine energy much more easily."

"You spoke of cards," Morrigan says. "The crystals and candles I can understand. We sometimes use them in different circumstances- to adorn our staff or to work particularly complex spells that require a source of energy or heat. But what do you use the cards for? What are they?"

"It's a form of divination," I reply.

"Ahhh as the Seers of Rivain are fond of using," Flemeth says. Walking over and handing me and Morrigan both a bowl. "As I recall, they also use bones."

"We use cards, bones, and other things like…dice and runes. There's a lot of cultures where I'm from, all different with different ways of doing things. But my way was always the cards. If I had the supplies I could make some of my own, but I'm guessing in this world, Paper and cardstock types of things are pretty expensive."

"You would be correct," Morrigan replies. "Trees may be easily felled but paper requires a process to be made."

I gasp aloud and put down my bowl. "I'll be right back!"

Running out of the hut, I do what Morrigan taught me to do this morning. Calling lightning to my fingertips. It's a small spell, and now, out of the sight of others, I allow it to dance once again.

The light from the electricity in my hand is enough for me to pick out and pick up several large fallen branches and tow them back to the hut. Soon, I feel confident that that's enough and I run out back to start the fire under the laundry cauldron by touching the kindling underneath with my lightning-fingers.

"Vanessa?" Morrigan calls from the front door. "Where are you? What  _are_  you doing?"

"Grab that wood out front and drag it back here, I'll show you," I call back.

The cauldron is empty, so I need water.

Morrigan comes marching back with exactly one branch in her hands, and looks at the empty cauldron with a raised brow. A tottering witchlight above her head providing illumination. "Do you not believe this better done in daylight?"

"I'm going to have to leave the wood in the water for a long time, to get it fibrous and soft enough to make paper. So putting it in now is probably the best option. It can soak it up while we're sleeping." I explain. "Then you beat it, rip it into little pieces and then use a mortar and pestle of sorts to crush it until it's pulpy. Then you suspend the pulp in water or press it onto a perfectly flat surface…probably no screens around here, so I guess we'll just be pressing."

"We?" Morrigan asks, haughtily. "And when did I become involved in this endeavor?"

"You were interested. I assumed you wanted to know how to make and use your own divining cards," I reply. "We need to fill this with all the sticks- but we need to take the bark off first. Some people leave the bark on, then peel it off later but…it's one less layer the water has to penetrate."

Grabbing the little dagger on my belt that Flemeth gave me to cut weeds and harvest herbs around the house with- I start stripping the branch that Morrigan brought.

She sighs and throws up her hands a little. "Fine then, I suppose I shall fetch the water as you can never carry more than one bucket." She turns on her heel and tromps off.

Leaving me to strip the bark off of branch after branch, once I've dragged them all back behind the house, of course.

We work in tandem together. Morrigan pouring in bucket after bucket of water, me stripping the bark- and then both of us shoving miscellaneous detritus under the pot and setting it afire when we need to, to keep the water hot.

Eventually I just start sending a current through the pot while Morrigan is fetching more water and soon enough it's steaming and nearly bubbling.

One by one, I add the stripped branches until the water is nearly overflowing and we call it a night.

"Finally!" Morrigan huffs. "All this work and you said we might only be able to make  _one_  deck?"

"I'm not really certain how much is needed- but considering it needs to be thick enough to be cardstock and not just paper, that's a lot more packed on top of itself, so…yeah. We can keep making more until we have two whole decks. Then the fun begins, and that won't be nearly as monotonous, I promise you."

"It had best not be," she sniffs. "I will need a long bath tomorrow morning, I have sweat through my clothes. We'll need that laundry cauldron, as well."

"We're mages," I reply. "We'll do both at the same time."


	3. Chapter 3

"I thought you said the next part would not be tedious?" Morrigan asks grumpily.

"Painting isn't tedious to me. If it is to you, that's your problem," I reply. Coating the back of my cards with a thin layer of red from a crushed berry and some egg whites- apparently the only paint we have access to.

She scoffs, "I have never had a talent for this. I _am_ capable of a sketch, but paint is runny and hard to control. It is tedious to simply keep track of what I am doing."

Morrigan is doing the back of her own cards in purple by mixing the red berry pigments with some kind of plant that when you boil it, blue comes off it instead of green. I don't know what it is, but I'll need more of it if I ever need to paint purple on my cards.

I don't usually. I stick to stark reds, blues, gold and black, maybe some orange or brown every now and then. I like those colors. The only thing purple about me is my hair.

That's another thing that's totally fucked in Thedas, apparently. I now have naturally purple hair. Wonderful. Great. It's not like I would've wanted to dye it some other color sometime. Not like Purple will be incredibly hard to cover up or hide or anything.

Thedosians don't have purple hair and yellow cat-like eyes. Not unless they're mages. And since I have no idea how to change either thing at this point in my training, that means everyone will know just looking at me.

"I still can't believe I inherited your eyes because they're the first ones I saw when recreating my body." I observe while layering the red paint as easy and smooth as I can. "Why the hell would that make any difference?"

"What color were they originally?" Morrigan replies distractedly. Trying to keep her purple paint contained to the card.

"It usually depended on my mood, I'd wear contacts to make them red, blue, green, yellow…they were grey to start with, so they could be basically any color without much muddling." I explain.

"I suppose I am supposed to know what a contact is," Morrigan replies. Still struggling to keep her globby paint in line.

"Here, lemme show you," I reach over and take her hands.

Guiding the brush strokes, I manage to get all the globs she'd spread all over into a uniform coat of paint, with the leftovers put back in the little wooden bowl.

She hums and puts that card on the flat rock to dry, picking up another to begin again. "I had no idea so much fine control went into simply flicking a brush back and forth."

"Everything in the world that can be done, can be done with skill. Even something outlandish and made-up can have levels of expertise to it. Like children's games with strange rules. After a while, the children are really good at it, but if they introduce someone new to it, it takes time for them to get good."

"I would prefer to learn to paint something more elegant," Morrigan grumbles.

"This is only the first step, Morrigan," I remind her. "The next will involve putting in the darker and lighter colors on the background of the first color- then building up a pattern with another color like black, silver or gold. Then you outline the pattern if you want- or you just go in and add little details. Basically, what it ends up looking like is up to you. Elegant or otherwise."

"It seems to me that we should practice, then, before creating something so important," she says.

"I've done this before. New materials, but it's really the same old thing for me. Still, new decks can be made when the old ones have worn out, or don't feel right anymore- or when you go through a significant life change and you feel like you just won't connect with the deck you made when you were someone else. Consider every deck you make as practice. Outside of that? Sure. Make some more paint and practice on…I dunno, old stumps that you can cut flat."

"Stumps," she huffs. "I suppose I simply paint directly on it and leave it exposed to the elements."

"Well, if you have a saw, you can cut out little flat planes and paint each side," I reply. "Like little canvases."

"I suppose if that is the only way to improve enough to do any artwork justice," she responds. Loftily as always.

"Once we're done with the back sides, we'll start outlining what we want on the fronts with some sketches," I say. "Are we still on later?"

"I'd daresay we are," Morrigan replies. "Not as though I've many places to go or many things to do."

"You never want to assume someone's plans and with mages, I will never assume I know what they do or where they go," I say. "I just really can't wait to learn how to use herbs. I know how in my own world, to some extent- for certain things. But this one is going to be different."

"This excitement you have for plants is obscene, really," she remarks. "What do you imagine happening in this lesson?"

"We don't have healing potions and poultices back where I'm from. We have…a different kind of medicine." Clearing my throat, I put down my last card on my own flat stone and then plop a heavy little rock on top of it. Hopefully it won't mess up the paint. I can't just let them flap in the wind. "Well, I'm done. I'm gonna go and do some more laundry before your mom throws a fit. I dunno why she got so fussy over us doing it in the stream…"

Morrigan sighs. "Mother is very exacting, and precise. Things must be done just so."

"I'm sorry," I squeeze her shoulder as I walk past. "That must be a nightmare."

A laugh seems to bubble out of her as I pass by, but she offers no real response.


	4. Chapter 4

Well, both of our decks are done…though it took a lot longer to accomplish than I first thought it would, they're definitely serviceable for now.

"You were right, you know," Morrigan says. Handling her deck with the greatest care, caressing the top card with light fingertips. "There is something about creating something with your own hands that makes you feel…something."

"What kind of symbolism did you go for?" I ask.

"Animals, Jewelry, mirrors…" she replies. "All things I am familiar with."

"Hm," I shuffle through my own and sigh. "I felt like using Thedosian things would be better, but things are so different here I struggled a lot to find…wait, I never finished this one." I pluck out the card with 'The Fool' written in fancy-ish script on the bottom. It's blank in the middle. "I just can't think of anything that fits."

Solas's card should've never been the Fool in the Major Arcana of the Inquisition Tarot deck things…he doesn't fit, at all. Even when in love, he never takes the final leap of faith. He's more like the Hanged Man or something similar- caught in a perpetual cycle of doing harm to try to do good, then feeling guilty about the harm and trying to go back and fix it…

Come to think of it, he never really fit the hermit, either. Solas  _thrived_  around people. He was also suspicious and leery of them, but that was because he was an Elven Mage in a world that wasn't kind to either- and because of the whole 'the dalish rejected me' thing that made him feel totally alienated.

Also, he was the Dread Wolf and hiding it, which only made him  _seem_  reclusive.

But he wasn't a hermit, he was more…I dunno. He was a solitary wolf by  _circumstance_ , not nature.

He more fit the moon, I think. A dual nature, a path of discovery and consciousness…just makes more sense to me. It even has a wolf on it! Missed opportunity…

"Are there any other artifacts you will need to work your magic?" Morrigan asks distractedly while stroking the back of her card deck. Admiring the design she painted onto it.

"Lots of things," I reply glumly. "I need to find a tree where I can pick up a fallen branch and make a wand or…I guess a staff? I still want a wand, maybe I could make both. I don't like the idea of channeling magic outside my body but if I need to…"

"What else?" she asks.

"Crystals are usually pretty important. I use different ones for different purposes…and of course herbalism. Your mother is still teaching me everything she can about that…" I trail off and think hard for a moment. "There's also just the usual things you can make yourself, like protective charms made of wood or bone or…something."

"Well if you're to make bone charms of any sort, you'll need to hunt," she says. "Has mother taught you any shapeshifting yet?"

"I don't really like the idea of shapeshifting, it's…" I flounder for a moment. "Not me?"

"Well I suppose if you're willfully limiting yourself," Morrigan snarks. "You may as well forego any other helpful knowledge and techniques. Reluctant to channel outside the body, not willing to shapeshift, what is next, truly?"

"Everyone has their niche, Morrigan and you're not as well-rounded as you like to think," I reply. "Have you ever had a spirit help you heal someone?"

She flicks her wrist. "I could, if I must. I am aware of the theory behind the practice."

"And that's an essential skill as you could need healing at any time," I reply. "When will I need Shapeshifting? Aside from battle where I could just as easily use spells for fire or enchant a sword or something?"

"My shapeshifting ability has been quite useful to me, I will have you know!" Morrigan says.

"Sure, cause you live in a forest," I reply. "But as both Flemeth and I have been telling you, we'll be leaving the forest soon. Going to cities. Shapeshifting is too obvious to use in the middle of a city."

"Townsfolk and their superstitions," Morrigan mutters resentfully.

"Yeah well, my point wasn't that Shapeshifting is useless, but that the skill has a specialized use. And all the skills you've learned, or theories you've been taught have prepared you for anything- but you only actively use a small subset of those skills actively. And that's because…?"

Morrigan sniffs and refuses to deign my question with an answer.

It's because a lot of those skills are useless in this environment. Alone in the woods with barely more to do than survive- a very rudimentary knowledge of healing magic would be able to heal most ills- and for those that you couldn't, you could just use herbs and poultices instead.

Meaning I'm right and Morrigan doesn't wanna admit it. Or she still stubbornly believes I'm wrong.

Eh.

"Well regardless, I  _will_  be teaching you to hunt, as we've nothing else to do and it is a necessary skill," She says imperiously.

All I can think of is a six year old very seriously telling her three year old sister that she'll be teaching her the very important skill of catching their cat in a laundry basket, thank you very much- and I can't vocalize that little vision because Morrigan would electrocute me to death.

It's just, she's been alone so long she's been kind of eager to teach me anything- all without signaling any interest in doing so at all, of course.

"Well if you can think of a way to teach me to hunt with magic that doesn't include shooting magic bolts from my body…be my guest," I allow.

"I am nothing if not creative," she says. Putting her hands on her hips. "I will show you techniques for hiding yourself with magic, and perhaps something to muffle your steps. Then it will merely be a matter of discharging enough magic from your hands on contact to instantly kill the beast."

So the rest of the day is spent doing, just exactly that. I mean, most of the rest of the day.

Flemeth still comes out to teach me things she believes I'll need to know every once in a while- and of course we break before sundown to bathe in the river and sit around the fire outside to talk about…well, anything. Just shooting the breeze.

It's nice…but it also can't last forever.


	5. Chapter 5

We've made more paper, and tanned the hide of all the animals I've been hunting.

The meat's been preserved- salted- and put away in a container in a hole we dug to keep it all cool and hidden away.

I kept the rabbit hides furry and sold them for coin at the nearest village. Or rather, Morrigan sold them while I waited in the woods.

My appearance is very obviously 'magey' and Morrigan at least only looks Chasind. Especially when she uses magic to hide the staff on her back.

Not just rabbit hide, either- to my surprise, apparently Squirrel hide is also sought after- though not as highly as rabbit.

Our paper isn't the most high quality but it's still paper, which is super expensive at this time in Thedas's history.

We're basically overflowing with silvers at this point. Especially since Morrigan can take the paper and small furs in a little roll-canister in her bird form and sell to places a bit further away.

I don't think she's ever had so much money. She seems reluctant to use it for anything, but since I've said we'll need it for the days ahead…

It seems like she resents that she wants to do something with it but also resents that she can't. I think it's the same as when I was growing up and I felt bad for wanting things but still felt kind of resentful over the fact that I never got to have anything to enrich my life.

Even just small things were bestowed on me like they were some great show of love, when-

No. No dwelling on shit that just makes me depressed and angry. I have to cut it off here, at the pass. Focus on what you're doing.

And what I'm doing is making something for Morrigan.

I don't care if her mother would probably disapprove- I'll just wait till we're out of sight and beyond her scrutiny.

I'm making a set of armor for myself, but also one for Morrigan.

Well, I'm not making it- the armor guy in the village over is making our armors. I put in an order for both of them after handing over all the leather and the payments. They're leather armors and I designed them both myself on bits of paper, but I gave him leeway if it ended up not being as functional as I wanted…

She doesn't know, I think. I want it to be a surprise for when we get out of here.

And at the moment I'm making her some jewelry bits to match. Cause I asked for him to dye the armor purple and black. And…I'm making bone and feather charms that she can wear as earrings and a necklace made from the canine teeth of the wolves we've had to fight off for our kills out in the wild.

They're a lot more aggressive here than in my world- or…maybe it's because of the Blight.

They did seem a lot skinnier than they should be. Though I saw no evidence of them becoming Blightwolves yet.

So our armor is a mixture of wolf pelt, deer pelt and any other bits and bobs I could throw in there that we hadn't sold yet. I even gave him a bunch of bones and shit he could use to make fasteners in case he didn't have much steel or iron or whatever.

I don't know much about Armor. Weapons, yes, armor no.

Weaponsmithing is actually one of my hobbies back home. I watched so many youtube videos for how to's and special projects I can practically just replicate them now.

I did a bit of practice, making cosplay types of shit, you know, fandom based stuff…but now I have the freedom to do more.

So after I make all the accessories for Morrigan and put them up in my go-bag…

I'm gonna forge myself something. Dunno what yet.

I think maybe I could make something that would sell for a good price- if I do it right. It'll take a while of practice and testing and shit, but I might be able to do this to make a living, repair everyone's equipment…

Well, their weapons. I won't be able to do shit with the armor bits.

"Vanessa, where are you?" Morrigan's voice drifts through the trees and I hurry to put everything away in the hollowed out stump where I've been keeping it.

The top has mostly rotted away but I can put it back on top to mostly seal it shut and keep everything inside protected from the outside elements.

"Over here," I say as I walk through the trees toward her. "Just taking a walk, what's up?"

"Mother is asking after you. I believe she means to test you again," she says.

"God, I hate her tests," I groan. "I'm all fine with being tested but she always puts a twist in and never tells me what it is."

"What point is there in telling you what the test is about?" she asks. Pretty imperiously, like usual.

"Well, how am I supposed to learn how to overcome something if I can't prepare for it? I mean sure, in the heat of battle, I won't know. But if I have practiced how to counter that kind of thing before- I'll have something to go off of, even if I need to improvise."

"That is what the teaching is for," she says. With a little furrow between her brows. "What other point can there be to tests if not to surprise you with situations you may face out in the world?"

"Is that what you think tests are?" I ask with a frown. "Where I'm from, in school, when you take a test it's not to see if you could miraculously know something you don't know based on stuff you DO know…it's to see how well you've been taking in the information so far and gauge how much help you might need on the subject to understand it better."

And then I shrug and roll my eyes. "Or well, that's what it is with  _good_  teachers. Assholes who try to test you on things you haven't even learned are regarded by most students and parents as…well, assholes."

Morrigan coughs to hide the snort I  _swear_  she just choked to cover up. "Well. Tis true I have oft wondered what point there was in testing me in magics I had no former knowledge of. I always thought it was simply…how things are done."

"It's not, and your mom is a shitty teacher," I reply. "But she's basically all I've got and I am  _not_  leaving you alone with her for however long it takes our journey to begin."

Morrigan looks away and I think she's biting her lip. "I see. I suppose tis a good thing the Blight has begun to encroach on the outer reaches of the wilds, then."

Her gaze is wistful and full of nervousness as she looks out into the woods like she can see them decaying before her very eyes.

"Not good, but opportune, I guess." She's not very good at social things when it comes to like…phrasing. She is very blunt but not just that. It's like…

Well, you wouldn't normally say it's a good thing the Blight is coming to the woods soon, but in context that means we won't have to stay with Flemeth much longer. And she'll get to explore the world.

I said it's opportune because I'm getting sick of Flemeth but I still think it's a bad thing. It's a specific context word that means 'bad thing is happening at the right time to be advantageous to me' and while Morrigan has that particular skill down…

She doesn't really care to  _use_  it all the time.

"Hmm…" she threads her fingers together and bites her lip. "The way you described the beginning of our adventure it seems…will we meet someone when the time comes? Or will we simply be forced from the wood?"

"Can't really answer one way or another," I reply. "But just know that you can be yourself and I  _will_  back you up unless you're being a total jerk. In which case I will tell you to knock it off."

She pouts, "I still do not see what problem you had with such a thing. I was merely demonstrating."

"You were showing off to make me feel bad about myself and my mastery of magic, Morrigan, nothing else." I could tell she's been feeling jealous that her mother is spending so much time trying to teach and cultivate me like she wants to do with Morrigan and probably all her other kids.

Nothing quite like being an abused child who gets mad at everyone  _but_  the parent who makes you feel like shit.

I understand it, which is why I usually let it go if she seems apologetic, even if she doesn't offer an apology right away.

Sometimes you just need to be corrected and the real apology is in changing your behavior. Not the words themselves.

And she hasn't done what she did then, since. So even if she doesn't get why it was wrong yet, she does understand it hurt me and doesn't want to do that again.

Shrugging, she motions me after her as she walks back toward the hut. "Come, come, or mother will have a fit about your lateness."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so those of you who read cross-fandoms and also read Unwritten:
> 
> I actually have a good reason for not updating this week beyond 'I'm still sick'. The next chapter is really REALLY long. Like it's already past like two thousand some words and still going-- I don't even feel halfway done and considering most of my chapters are like around a thousand words...yeah that's long.
> 
> Anyway, I might update with it next week or I might still need more time, because you know. Sick. But also because you know. Long.

It's been weeks since I got to Thedas.

Barely eventful for at least three of them. I think. I am terrible at keeping track of time, but Morrigan told me it was close to that when I asked and I trust her to have that much more wherewithal than  _me_ , at least.

Years, it should take years to master magic. Or at least months to master it enough to have any real kind of control.

But Flemeth taught me how to communicate and make deals with Demons and Spirits alike. And when I was asleep, they trained me.

In return for being able to experience a moment in my life- a memory- when I felt their particular emotion.

Demons of rage wanted to feel when I was angry. Demons of Despair wanted to see when I was at my most depressed.

Spirits of love wanted to see the faces of the men and women I'd loved in  _any_  capacity and feel that particular flavor of love for that particular person for each small thing they taught me.

Lucky for me that there is no shortage of anger, despair and love in my life. Two coming from my upbringing and just…everything else- the other from the fictional worlds I got lost in so often. I experienced kinds of love I've never felt in real life through books, tv shows, movies, video games…

But they were passingly interested. Once they had something from me and had fulfilled their end of our bargain, they usually ran off. Deciding I didn't really mesh well with them.

And then  _he_  came.

A spirit of a concept that was nearly impossible to describe. He allowed me to see inside of himself to understand what his feeling was- but I still don't really grasp all its facets.

He says I don't have to. That I embody it just fine without understanding it.

It wasn't like anger but it was. It wasn't like despair, but it was. It wasn't like happiness, but it was.

I can't even describe all the feelings that were tangled up in it. Or rather, the sensations that should've been indicators of other feelings all combining into a totally new sensation.

Like the twist in your chest when you're anxious, the heat in your veins when you're angry, the ice down your spine when you're filled with fear and the numbness in your limbs that speaks of despair. The bubbling excitement filling your whole body like you're about to burst…

Regardless, he's been teaching me magic and time is…off, in the Fade. I daresay I've been getting months worth of work done- mentally at least, in the span of two weeks.

Because I only met him a week after I got here and Flemeth felt it was safe to start introducing me to demons.

She did so a lot sooner than she probably should have, but as I've said before. Flemeth is a shitty teacher. As shitty a teacher as she apparently is a mother.

"It's okay Morrigan, I've got you," I huff, out of breath. I've been dragging and carrying Morrigan for a  _while_  now as her limbs refuse to cooperate with her wishes to get up and walk.

"This…is ridiculous," she slurs. "I was…barely hurt…"

"You got hit on the head, that takes time to recover from. Especially if you've got a concussion or something." Please don't have a concussion.

She took a healing potion but they actually take time to work so it hasn't really brought her back from flopping around, yet.

Her condition  _is_  better than it was an hour ago when I had to throw her over my shoulder and run- so that's showing improvement, I guess.

If I were a mother, I wouldn't let my kid out of the house without having some way to contact me. I know cell phones don't exist nowadays but Flemeth can damn sure make or get a sending stone or make a magic mirror so she can watch out for Morrigan without being invasive- but she either doesn't do that-

Or she totally does and only uses to be totally invasive and creepy.

She hasn't shown up to help once in this whole fucking hour of carrying and half-supporting Morrigan all the way back toward the hut.

Once we get out of here…

Can I get the damn Grimoire for Morrigan before then? I just need to ask Flemeth for it, I'm sure- if I tell her I want to be able to give it to Morrigan when the time comes, I'm sure she wouldn't think anything of it other than me being me, trying to strategize and save time.

But no, she'd see me somehow changing the course of things and get antsy and tell me to come back when it's actually time 'you impatient child' or something.

I hate Flemeth more and more with each passing day.

As a character she's fascinating and even entertaining. As a real life person, she sucks ass.

Finally I manage to get Morrigan walking under her own power with some really REALLY amateur healing spells and we stumble back to the hut clearing's protective ward circle and just… _collapse_  inside it.

"Hang on-" I pause to gasp for air. God, I'm winded. "Gimme a sec…and I'll…get a potion…from the hut."

"Ugghh," she groans in response.

Takes more than a few minutes to get my wind back enough to get another potion.

Flemeth gives me lip about going through our supplies so quickly and I told her to find a dragon to shove up her ass before slamming the door behind me.

Morrigan was limp but still conscious and breathing when I helped her to her feet and led her to one of the nearby stumps that weren't ragged and pointy on top.

I hand her the vial when she's settled and she slowly consumes it- pausing to breathe and, I assume, shove down vomit so she doesn't waste what she's already taken.

"Injury kit or no?" I ask. "Just thumbs up or down. Don't move your head, you'll get dizzy."

She falters and looks quizzical. So I demonstrate. "Thumbs up is yes. Thumbs down is no."

"Ah," she says. Then clears her throat and gives me a thumbs down.

"Let me know if you think you're wrong and you'll definitely need one. Otherwise, I'm going to take these nugs and skin them- I'll be right over there, okay?"

I don't want to hover, she hates that. Giving myself something else to do will make her feel like I'm not fussing and I can watch her out of the corner of my eye.

She almost nods, stops herself, then gives me a thumbs up.

It's just so weird, that when I get over to the gutting and tanning and preparation area they have set up outside their hut that I giggle to myself a little. I just taught Morrigan a form of sign language but it's a thumbs up and down and it looked so  _incongruous_.

Maybe I should learn the Thedosian version of sign language, come to think of it. We all should, when we get together- it'd be so useful for so much stuff. Silent communication in the middle of missions, the ability to have conversations in which people can't overhear you and if you angle yourself right, can't catch a glimpse of your moving hands, either.

I think about it as I watch over Morrigan and skin the Nugs.

This particular task never gets easier for me. As a modern woman in America, I've never had to do this myself. As a farm girl raised in rural areas, I've had to see the evidence of it being done or had it around me- but never really stuck around to watch.

All the gratuitous violence on TV has prepared me for dead humans, but every time you see a dead animal or have to touch it, it's like…

Well I've never seen a dead human, though. Not one that wasn't at a funeral. Who knows how I'll feel about that.

I'm just relieved the first dead human I see isn't gonna be Morrigan.

"Alright," she sighs as she approaches me. "I believe the worst is past. Give me a pelt. I'll begin the tanning."

I know better than to argue at this point. So I just give her the pelts as I free them and she starts tanning them with a mixture of the Nug's own brains and a few other ingredients. She has to scrape them first.

As she does, she comments casually on what just happened. "That was a Blight Wolf, yes?" In a way that means she doesn't really wanna talk about it, at length- she just wants her words acknowledged.

"Yeah," I reply. "It's coming soon."

She hums in agreement and we continue our work. Both lost in our thoughts.


End file.
